


Wings of change

by SailorYue



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Demon Wings, M/M, Post-Canon, touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorYue/pseuds/SailorYue
Summary: Funny thing about wings. They can change, did you know?





	Wings of change

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Les ailes du changement (Wings of change)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19952236) by [MlleHeathcliff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MlleHeathcliff/pseuds/MlleHeathcliff)



After averting Armageddon, Aziraphale and Crowley realize it has been far too long since they had really stretched their wings. They really couldn't spread them without using a miracle or two to hide their presence from humans, but after their whole pretending to be each other to fool their respective higher-up's, they decided one thing to do was to have a little fun. They both deserved it.

They enjoyed their flight together, however brief it was. They waited before returning to the real world. Where they were, it wasn't nessesary out of sync with time, as stopping time required far too much magic and they wanted to have the energy for the flight. They enjoyed the breeze on their wings. The timeless realm was quiet, as it usually was. A nice respite, especially since this time they weren't worried about destruction once time began again.

"Crowley..." Aziraphale started, looking at the expanse of his demonic friend's black wings. "You've... you have white feathers in your wings!"

It was absolutely baffling at what he saw. Crowley spun around, wings flaring at his angelic friend's words.

"What did you say?" Crowley's yellow snake eyes sparking with confusion.

"There are _white_ feathers in your wings, close to your shoulders." Aziraphale reached behind his back to grab a feather. "See?"

Crowley stared at the white feather in the angel's hand. It made no sense for it to have come from him. His wings had been black as night since the day he fell. He snatched it from Aziraphale's outstretched hand, a bit harder than he really meant to.

"That's...not possible." The demon attempted to look at the underside of his wings, a bit awkwardly, but out of what he saw he saw peaks of white. "How in the he--, How in hev--" He growled not wanting to ask either of those questions, as neither felt right on his tongue these days. "How on earth can that be?"

"I am at a loss, my dear!" Aziraphale was just as confused.

The feather most certainly was one of Crowley's. The texture was much different than the soft downy texture of his own wings. Crowley's wings had a sleek oily texture and the white one he had plucked had that texture, even though the feather was white. And there were far too many on the demon's back for there to be a mix up of his own ending up entwined.

"Maybe there's a reason your wings are turning back white? Maybe, perhaps..."

"What, that the almighty has decided to forgive me? Fat chance angel. She doesn't forgive anything!" Eyes flashing with anger, Crowley struggled to maintain his composure of this.

"But she does, that's what the whole thing with Jesus Christ was about." Aziraphale stated causing Crowley to roll his eyes.

"That's with humans, angel. Not demons. She's not going to decide after 6000 years to finally accept my...." Crowley cut himself quickly. Biting his tongue and turning slightly red. "Forget it. Let's just get back to our lives angel."

Crowley marched off a few feet away from Aziraphale, who was stunned at what his friend had stated. Has Crowley been praying this whole time? He wasn't even sure how to ask, as it seemed like a very sensative subject to the demon. He knows the demon enough that Crowley prefers to avoid meaningful words and the like.

"Yes, right." Aziraphale cleared his throat and turned his back, ready to perform his half of the miracle. "Shall we?" 

Crowley looked over his shoulder at the angel Rai his hand to snap his finger and saw something out of the corner of his eye. In a flash he was by Aziraphale's side, hand clasping his wrist to halt the snap.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale looked over his own shoulder I confusion. 

Crowley looked at the Angel's wings. In all their time tofether hea known them to be a pure alabaster white. Whiter than the whitest clouds in heaven; atleast what he remembered them to be. Now though...

Crowley reached into the roots of Aziraphale's wings and gently plucked one. The Angel barely felt it happen.

"What is it?" The angel still couldn't see what was going on as the demon still had a grip on his wrist. Crowley released his friend's hand as he rounded to his front.

"This." Crowley Heald out the black feather. It looked just as soft as the rest of Aziraphale's wings only it was as black as night. Aziraphale stared at it owlishly.

"Is that.... that can't be..." Aziraphale struggled to get a fully sentence out.

"It's straight off your wings, Angel." Crowley stared at the feather in his hand.

"But I haven't...!!"

"Of course not. Falling is not something you forget. Plus this feather is the same texture as your white ones. Soft."

Both ethereal creatures looked from the feather, to each other then to the sky.

"What is she on about?" Crowley murmured under his breath. "What game is she playing?"

"God does not play games, my dear. I'm sure this is all part of the.....um...." Aziraphale trailed off.

Crowley smirked back at the angel, noting that he had turned slightly pink. "Were you going to say 'ineffable?'"

"No! I was going to say something else!" The angel's blush grew and suddenly Crowley's mood felt better.

"Come on, Angel. Let me treat you to lunch."

Both snapped their fingers and their wings vanished. They headed towards the Bentley.

"That would be lovely, oh thank you." Aziraphale sat in the front seat and Crowley closed the door he had been holding open. "The Ritz?"

"We can go anywhere in the world angel, and you always choose the Ritz." Crowley started the car and drove off.

God does not play games with the universe, however perhaps part of the ineffable plan is that an angel and a demon are no longer purely that. They are a little bit of both.

**Author's Note:**

> All fics are open to pod, translation, and fanart


End file.
